


Staring at Mikoto

by words_are_like_colors



Series: Tattooed to Misaki [2]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Misaki is part of Homra gang, Saruhiko is a tattoo artist, Tattoos, Totsuka is blind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-28 15:41:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8452108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_are_like_colors/pseuds/words_are_like_colors
Summary: Totsuka is released from the hospital after two weeks of the attack by Iwafune. Mikoto is concerned for his fiancé as he struggles with his blindness.





	1. “Do you think I’ll be okay?”

  
Totsuka was all smiles and optimism. Never once had he openly cried in front of a group of people, nor had he ever wished hell on someone. He was gentle, sweet, loving, beautiful and everything thing else that came with those words. If you were a sales clerk, he would say “thank you” in a cheerful voice and wave goodbye. If you were a small lost puppy, he would pick you up from the street and bring you to a shelter. If you were his fiancé, you got someone who would love and support you like any other good spouse would. But, like any smile, there was a dark past lurking behind it. Unlike most people, however, Totsuka filled that dark past with things like family, friends and even the occasional weird hobby that most people would just shake their head at. He was a rare gem. Yes, he has gone through things that most people would never wish to go through, but he bounced back each time as if he was a boomerang. If you threw a boomerang it would come back to you—but only if you throw it correctly, just like Totsuka. Mikoto had originally pushed him away, saying that he’d get hurt because of him and that Totsuka needed to live a better life without Mikoto, but he kept coming back. Every push, every shove just made him spring back harder and faster, always persistent on his goal. If he couldn’t complete that goal, he would just find a new way to complete it. 

But, like a boomerang, you had to throw it the correct way to get it to come back. If this time you threw the boomerang sideways or backwards, he’d come bouncing back not with a smile, but with a frown.

Mikoto glanced at his fiancé. Ever since he’d talked to Izumo privately before getting in the car he had been a little off. Mikoto understood that he’d be stressed about being blind and how the others would act, but even with that Totsuka would normally just shrug it off and say that everything would work out. 

The king watched him mess with the silver band on his finger. Immediately after the Mari Shootings, the pair of them had gone out and bought engagement rings. Mikoto wasn’t a big traditional man who thought that if you really loved someone, you had to get married—he just wanted to be with Totsuka. But the impact of almost losing him over night had made him want to make the relationship between them official. That had been two years ago, and just last month Totsuka had asked if they could get married like a normal couple. Mikoto had agreed, but now… but now it seemed like that wouldn’t happen.

“Totsuka? You okay?” Mikoto asked, his voice gruff from holding back the worry. 

The man sighed and let go of his ring. “I’m fine.” 

The king wanted to reach out and comfort him, to say that everything was going to be alright and that this all was just a bad dream. But he couldn’t do that, he wasn’t Totsuka. Mikoto was a man of destruction and torment, not caring and love like his partner. 

Today was the day that Totsuka was released from the hospital. The doctors had explained everything, giving the king medication, dates, instructions, paperwork and a dozen other things to make his head spin, but since Izumo was there everything was sorted out and explained in a manner that Mikoto could understand. The bartender planned to stay the next week at the bar to make sure they had everything they needed. It wasn’t like Mikoto was helpless or anything, but it would take the younger of the trio a while to get re-adjusted to the bar.

Before they knew it, they had arrived. The three of them got out of the car once Izumo announced that they were at Homra. Mikoto watched Totsuka get out of the car and go up to the front steps. Sighing, he walked over and slipped an arm around his waist to lead him up the stairs and inside. 

As they walked inside, Misaki and Anna launched themselves onto the man, squeezing and hugging him as the rest of the bar shouted “welcome back”s. Totsuka laughed and pried Misaki off of him. “T-Thank you guys!” 

“You’re welcome!” The bundle of joy smiled widely and bounded off to the couch where his boyfriend sat. 

The rest of the bar went back to their business. Eric was carrying a cupcake tray and handing them out to people; Mikoto assumed that Misaki or Kamamoto had made them since Eric couldn’t cook for the life of him. Little Anna was still standing by Totsuka’s side, now holding onto his hand. She rose to her toes to whisper something to him. Totsuka nodded and fixed the smile that had faltered on his face before heading over to the couch to sit between Fushimi and Misaki. 

Anna turned back around and looked at Mikoto. She reached up with her delicate pale arms and made a cupping motion as if wanting to whisper something to him too, so Mikoto bent down and let her speak into his ear. “Totsuka’s red is dim,” Anna said softly to him, clutching his hand with a worried look on her face. If calm, gentle Anna was worried, then there was something terribly wrong. 

Mikoto could feel it too. Totsuka’s red has dimmed a considerable amount from what it had been before the attack. The only reason Mikoto didn’t realize it right away was because he had assumed that his red would’ve only been dimmed from the shock of the attack. Both the king and the girl had these forms of a sixth sense, a sense that they could see someone’s “red”, or the strength of their power; Anna could see their red because of her condition, while Mikoto could sense the changes. Any Homra member could gain the sense if they practiced enough. Homra members’ reds/powers increased when incredible amounts of emotions were presented—usually happiness, love or anger made the red brighter while sadness, emptiness or stress made it dim. During Misaki’s year, Anna had said that his red was nearly black. Gladly, his red brightened over time then spiked when he meet and became boyfriends with Fushimi. 

Mikoto gently patted the girl on the head as he watched Totsuka peel off the wrapper from the cupcake Eric had given him while ignoring Misaki’s loud chatter about the upcoming Christmas holiday. The blind man was frowning slightly as he nibbled on the cake, as if he was a boy who had had his toys taken away. 

To be completely truthful, the king was vexed, worried, and angry, but most of all he was frustrated. Frustrated at the fact that the only thing keeping him alive, happy, and calm was being tormented and hurt. It wasn’t his fault that he’d signed onto JUNGLE as a fun joke with some of the guys, then ended up actually enjoying it and doing well at some online trash games. It wasn’t his fault that some man was having a temper tantrum from getting kicked out of the founder’s team of JUNGLE. (Nagare had explained it all after Mikoto had threatened to go over to his place and burn his little bird’s beak off the day after Totsuka was attacked.) None of this was his goddamn fault, yet the only person that could love him for what he was ended up hurt and scarred for life. 

“Hey. King. Totsuka is asleep,” Misaki whispered loudly, pointing at the king’s fiancé who had drifted off to sleep on Fushimi’s shoulder. 

The doctor had said something about the medication making him drowsy, so Mikoto wasn’t surprised that he had fallen asleep. The king walked over to the couch and gently took him off of Fushimi’s shoulder. Totsuka made a soft noise as Mikoto picked him up and carried him gently upstairs to their room. The sleeping man jerked when Mikoto placed him on the thin sheets of their bed. 

Totsuka reached up to rub his eyes with a hand. “Did I fall asleep?” he asked with a yawn while sitting up slightly. 

Mikoto let out an affirmative grunt and gently pushed him back down onto the bed. “You need the rest.” He lovingly brushed a lock of hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. 

“But I just got back! I need to apologize to the guy—” A yawn interrupted his retorts, proving that he did need the rest. “Fine. You win, but wake me up for dinner if I sleep too long, alright?” 

Mikoto nodded, then remembered that he couldn’t see him nodding so he verbally confirmed that he would wake him up. After dragging a blanket out of the closet and throwing it over him, the king left him curled up on the bed and was going to close the door when Anna quickly slipped into the room, saying that she would stay with Totsuka. 

He left the two of them and went back downstairs to the bar. He quickly noticed the lack of red in the bar and sighed; a few people already had already left. After noticing that, he saw that Misaki was kneeling on the couch, his face and hands pressed up to the window behind it. A soft, pouty whine came from the man as he stared out into the street. Misaki looked over his shoulder as Mikoto came downstairs. “King. How long does it take to go to the store?” Seeing as Misaki was asking him of all people this odd question, one of the people who left must’ve been his grumpy boyfriend.

“Depends.” The king shrugged while making his way over to the couch and dropping down next to him. 

Misaki frowned and let out another whine. “I wonder what they’re talking about. He went off with Chitose and Kamamoto and you know what Chitose is always talking about, chicks and stuff like that.” 

“Just let them be.” Mikoto huffed and took his cigarette out of his pocket. He snapped his fingers to light it. 

“But what if Saru gets cold? It’s really cold out and I think it’s going to snow today. He doesn’t even have a heavy jacket!” The skater kept rambling on about his boyfriend getting cold for so long that Izumo came out from behind his precious bar to bonk his head. 

The bartender rolled his eyes and flashed a knowing smile at Mikoto. “You worry too much. He’s a grown man and knows how to take care of himself.” Izumo had recited almost exactly what he had said to Totsuka a few winters back. Mikoto had walked out to go get something from the store and Totsuka had been flying around the bar, spurting out worries because he’d wanted Mikoto to be warm until Izumo had calmed him down. “If something is wrong, Kamamoto would’ve call you.” 

The skater sighed and nodded. “I guess…” Frowning, he sat back down and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. 

Mikoto took a drag from his smoke, rolling his eyes at the younger man’s clinginess. Izumo was retreating back to his normal place behind the counter when the familiar taps of Anna’s shoes sounded and the sight of her small form appeared on the stairs. She walked over to the king and whispered, “He’s asleep now.” 

The king nodded and patted her head in thanks. 

* * *

“Come’n. Time to eat.” Mikoto shook the sleeping form still curled up under the blanket. 

“Noooooooo,” he whined, “I’m warm.” Totsuka gripped the black blanket around him more, trying to hide himself more than he already was. 

He chuckled and poked his side. “If you don’t get up, I’ll tickle you,” he threatened, knowing how much Totsuka being tickled, especially when there were other people at the bar. 

“Fine! Carry me! I’m too comfortable to move.” 

Mikoto rolled his eyes and yanked the blanket off of Totsuka, ignoring the agitated yelp and grabbing him from the bed. Totsuka wrapped his arms around his neck and clung to him, giggling softly. A wave of relief flowed through the king at the sound of his laugh. Hopefully the little dim spell had gone away during the nap. 

Judging his steps carefully so not to fall, Mikoto made his way down the stairs and over to the bartop. His fiancé let out a squeak as the other unexpectedly set him down on his designated stool. The king softly placed a kiss on his cheek and sat down himself. 

Izumo and Anna joined the pair and ate mostly in silence, the quiet only broken when Totsuka started to happily chatter about how good the dinner was and how he should ask Misaki to make cupcakes more often. 

After having the last of the cupcakes for dessert, Izumo started to close up the bar for the afternoon and Totsuka pulled on the king’s shirt. “Can I take a shower? I feel gross.” 

“It’s only six.” Mikoto looked at him, confused. Typically, he would shower right before going to bed at around nine and then stay up and read a book or play on the computer before going to sleep. Maybe he was still slightly distorted from the long nap. 

“Then why did we eat early?” Mikoto was going to explain when Totsuka shook his head and said, “Nevermind. I still want a shower.” His smile drooped slightly as he slid off of the stool and made his way over to the stairs. 

The king followed him into the bedroom. “A bath would be better.” 

Totsuka nodded and sat on the bed to wait while Mikoto got clothes out of the dresser for him and started filling the bath. “King?” 

“Hm?” 

“I…” The king glanced out of the bathroom at him. “Do you think I’ll be okay?” His voice was light and timid, almost begging for a solid answer. His hands were in his lap, fiddling with the ring and chewing on his lip; a new sign that something was wrong again, just like in the car. 

He looked at him in surprise. It was as if he had picked up the wrong man at the hospital. Never in his entire life had he heard Totsuka ask if he was going to be okay, it had always been “we’ll work it out” or “don’t sweat it, everything is going to be fine”, without asking or worrying about what was going to happen. The king strode over to the bed and caught Totsuka’s face in his hands. His thumbs gently ran over his fiancé’s soft cheeks. “You are going to be just fine. I won’t let anything hurt you again, I’ll stick to you like glue.” Mikoto said these words forcefully, as if the hardness of his voice would strengthen the promise. “It’s my fault you got hurt, I fucked up. I left you al—” 

Totsuka unexpected voice crack interrupted Mikoto’s mini speech. His hands balled up in the man white shirt, now abandoning his ring to cling to something bigger. Warm tears seeped over his fingers as they rolled down Totsuka’s cheeks. _No no no no no!_ Totsuka wasn’t supposed to cry. 

“K-King…” he whimpered into his shirt once Mikoto moved one of his hands to his hair to try to calm him. “It’s my fault I went out. I-I just wanted to-” a sob racked his skinny body, “- w-wanted to get you something.” Mikoto hopelessly watched him cry against his chest, not knowing what to do. “I… I just had to get it at that moment.” Everything he has ever held back was pouring down his face and dripping into Mikoto’s shirt.

“Totsuka. Calm down… please.” Mikoto was wide eyed, internally freaking out. Consoling people definitely wasn’t on his main menu of specialties. “Totsuka. Babe, it’s going to be okay.” He ran his hand over Totsuka’s back and into his hair, his other arm secured around his waist to keep him close. “Everything is going to be okay,” he repeated, trying his best to copy what Totsuka did to other people when they were down. 

Another rough sob shook him as he tried to get more words out. With a few encouraging words from Mikoto, Totsuka whimpered out, “I-It hurts.” He trembled, causing the king to tighten his grip around him to stop the shaking but at the same time worry that _he_ was hurting Totsuka. 

“I know. You need to calm down before you go into… hysterics.” Mikoto gently wrapped himself around him, holding him close as if the proximity to him would make the tears stop. “You are going to be okay. Just breath. You didn’t have to get me whatever you wanted to get me. It’s fine. It was those damn thugs that hurt you.” The soft whimpers started to stop, which Mikoto took as a sign that the talking was helping. “It’s my fault you were alone. I thought you just went out to check on Anna, not to get me something. If you still want me to have it, we can get it but you have to calm down first.” 

Totsuka nodded against his collarbone, his fists tightening in his shirt. “K-King?”

“Yeah?” 

“I-I sorry that I hurt you,” he mumbled, sniffling as he slowly drew away from the sadness. “I didn’t mean to—” 

Mikoto dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to his lips, stalling him. His lips were salty and warm from the crying and they quivered when Mikoto pulled back. “I’m fine babe,” he whispered. “There is no point in getting upset.” 

Totsuka nodded and started to let go of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he repeated while reaching up to rub his eyes. 

The king pulled back, seeing that he was calm now. “Come’n, the bath will make you feel better.” He took one of Totsuka’s hands and helped him get to his feet before leading him into the bathroom. Lucky the bath was filled already so they didn’t have to wait. Mikoto was gingerly going to help Totsuka unbutton his shirt when his hands were pushed away. 

“I got it. Just… I can do it.” Mikoto nodded and let him undress himself. “King? Could you wash my hair like normal please?” he asked once he’d stripped and tossed his clothes in the corner to be washed the next day; he wasn’t flustered about the king seeing his body after all the times they’d been together. “You know? I like it when you call me bebe.” A small smile had escaped onto his face.

“‘Course.” A smile nudged at his lips at the question and the statement. After ripping his shirt off so that the water wouldn’t splash into it and getting Totsuka comfortable in the tub, he began washing his hair. Avoiding the particular spot where his head had been slammed against the wall, Mikoto gently rinsed his soft tan hair and rubbed shampoo in. A few years ago, Totsuka accidentally let it slip that he liked it when Mikoto touched his hair. The king had never understood the reason why he liked it (even when Totsuka had tried to tell him that it felt good when someone with large, rough hands was gently running their fingers through the other’s hair, Mikoto had just shrugged) but he continued to wash his hair without complain whenever Totsuka requested it. 

Totsuka finished up the bath and got out. Mikoto grabbed a towel and rubbed his hair dry while he got dressed in his normal night clothes. He rolled up the cuffs of the red plaid pants so he wouldn’t trip over them when going to the bed; Totsuka liked wearing Mikoto’s pants to bed because they covered his feet when they were rolled down. “I feel a little better now,” he muttered out at last, a soft smile flickering on his lips. 

“‘old you so.” Mikoto placed a small kiss on his forehead while walking past him to the bedroom to get dressed himself. He stretched his back out and snatched pants out of the dresser, pulling them on in a matter of seconds. A soft noise from Totsuka made him look up. The man was still huddled in the doorway, his arms wrapped around himself. “Is there anything else that will make you feel better?” 

The gang member shook his head. “I’m fine right now. Just… nervous, that’s all.” The frown that replaced the soft smile angered Mikoto. He would’ve fought that frown if it was a living thing. Nothing would be tolerated that hurt his love. “Going to bed would be better I guess…just stay with me, okay? I know it’s early still but I want to sleep with you. I haven’t gotten much sleep in the last few weeks, you know?”

Yeah, he knew. Mikoto had also struggled to sleep for the past two weeks. The worry of whether Totsuka was going to be well or not had kept him up at night. “Yeah.” He got Totsuka situated in bed after giving him his head medicine and telling Izumo and Anna that they were turning in early. 

The king crawled into bed next to him. He pulled the blankets tight around him before putting an arm around his partner’s waist and pulling him closer; it was only at this moment that he realized that he was already in deep sleep. Mikoto let out a soft sigh and kissed his forehead. “Sweet dreams,” he mumbled, knowing that the both of them needed nice dreams tonight. 

* * *

Tatatra let out a noise of waking and opened his eyes to only meet darkness. _Oh. Right. Can’t see_. He frowned and shifted under King’s heavy arm. It was too warm to cuddle right now; the warmth made his throat dry over night. He pushed the arm off of his waist and scooted out from underneath the heavy covers. _Cold!_ The air was _freezing_ , as if a blizzard had come through and buried the city in snow. Figuring that it would be rude to steal the thick blanket from King, he decided to try to get a sweater out of the dresser. 

Carefully, he slid off of the bed until his feet hit the floor. _Cold!_ He jerked his feet into the warm bed before lowering them back down into the hardwood floor. Tatatra mentally cursed himself for not having slippers as he made, or rather guessed, his way to over to the tall dresser with outstretched hands, only stopping when his fingertips made contact with the wood. 

Tatatra let out a sigh of relief and ran his fingers down until he found the last drawer where their sweaters were stored. Pulling out the drawer slowly so that it wouldn’t squeak and wake King up, he tugged out a huge sweater. He smiled triumphantly to himself before closing the drawer and opened up the sweater to put it on. As Tatatra unfolded it, he noticed that something was inside it. He shoved the sweater under his arm and turned the object over, trying to identify it. _Oh! It’s Yata’s journal. I need to give it to Fushimi._

He shrugged on the heavy sweater and instantly he was warm again. A smile lifted onto Tatatra’s face at this. He hated the cold…except for snow of course, he loved snow. 

“King? You awake?” he called softly, worried that he had woken him up, but fortunately his king was still asleep. The gang member sighed softly and focused his mind. _Being blind can’t be that hard right? It’s just like walking with your eyes closed! And that isn’t that hard if you do it enough._ , he thought, trying to be optimistic. 

Out of the bedroom and down the hallway was easy enough—all he had to do was to run his hand across the wall—but the hard part was the stairs. Tatatra frowned as he stood at the top, one hand on the handrail and the other firmly holding Yata’s journal. _Twelve steps. Just twelve normal sized steps. Nothing too hard. Let’s just pretend that it’s night out. Wait… is it still night? Did I wake anyone?_ Tatatra shook his head at his last thought and took a deep breath. _My eyes are closed. My eyes are closed. It’s dark out. I’m not disabled,_ he repeated in his mind slowly as he lowered himself onto the top step and continued cautiously to the bottom. 

After he’d finished his goal of successfully conquering the stairs, his next mission was to find Izumo, who had decided to sleep on the couch last night. “Izumo?” Tatatra called softly. 

“Totsuka? Why are you up already, it’s still early?” Izumo replied, his voice clear. He must’ve already been awake. 

“Oh. I just wanted some water, my throat is dry. What time is it?” The gang member inwardly cringed at how childlike he sounded, as if he was incapable of getting water himself. 

A hand came down on his shoulder, making him jump before he recognized the strong scent of Izumo’s smokes. “Little jumpy this mornin’? Go sit, I’ll get you some water.” He gently lead Tatatra over to his designated stool. He hopped on and put Yata’s journal on the bartop. “It’s only five right now. Are you going back to bed?” he asked kindly as he filled up a glass and placed it in front of Tatatra. 

The man shook his head no and drank some of the water. “Did it snow last night? It’s cold in here.” 

“Yep. A mini blizzard in fact. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up.” 

“Oh.” 

Izumo went silent for a moment then whispered cautiously, “Are you still upset about what you said back at the hospital?” 

Tatatra shrugged and ran his index finger along the rim of the glass. “Yeah. I know it’s stupid to feel this way and I know I can overcome it, but I still feel… worthless. I can’t even get my own glass of water!” 

“It’s going to take time, but we all are here to he—” The gruff voice of King sounded from upstairs, cutting Izumo off. 

“Totsuka? Where are you?” 

“Downstairs, King. I’ll be right up,” he called, but King had already made his way downstairs and into the bar area. Tatatra frowned slightly. “I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

Tatatra imagined that King was shaking his head because a verbal response never came, but a small kiss was placed on his lips, making Tatatra blush softly. “Izumo’s watching,” he whined. 

“Who cares?” King grinned and sat down next to him at the bar. 


	2. "Everything Looks Pretty." Christmas Special ~ Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve! The holiday season is rolling in quickly with Saruhiko and Totsuka in the middle of it.  
> (Sarumi fluff at the beginning)  
> Enjoy!

Yata _hated_ getting home late; getting home late meant less time with Saru—especially tonight, since tomorrow was Christmas Eve. Luckily, he only got home late half of the week due to the internet café job he had gotten two months ago. Yata noticed that a trend had already started to take place—if it was a day that Yata got home late (Monday, Wednesday or Friday), Saruhiko would wait until nine to eat, which meant that the only food that Saru would eat was the food that Yata made. The skater felt quite honored at that, but Saru’s diet was more important! Speaking of diet and food, Yata was even _more_ late tonight than usual due to a mini shopping trip. 

With his skateboard stuck under his arm and his hands full of shopping bags, he ran up the stairs and down the walkway towards his apartment, careful not to slip and fall on the slick wooden boards. The skater slid across the floor until he reached his door, which he immediately kicked. Normally when he got home late, he would just knock on the door (or kick it if his hands were full) because it was easier than digging his keys out, and on a more sappy note it felt more homey if Saru came and greeted him at the door. 

But this time, there was no answer. “Oi! Saru. I’m home,” he called through the door, kicking it again. “I’ll kick this door down if you don’t an—” 

“If I don’t what?” The artist opened the door and almost received a kick himself as Yata pushed inside, more impatient due to the cold. He felt warmer once the door was closed.

“Whatever,” Yata huffed, but when he rose to his toes to give Saru a kiss he ducked away and grabbed some of the bags instead. “What’s your problem?” 

Yata didn’t hear whatever smart remark his boyfriend answered with because he finally spotted the reason that Saru wasn’t at the door—that chick from Scepter 4 was standing in the middle of the apartment. She glanced over to the disgruntled man. “Hello, Yata. I’ll be leaving in just a minute.” 

“You better,” the skater muttered under his breath. After ripping off his scarf and jacket, he walked into the kitchen to put the groceries away and to start dinner. 

Yata eavesdropped on the conversation. “The captain keeps insisting that I come and get you to accept. He can provide more benefits if you would like.” 

“I said I would think about it, alright? Why doesn’t he come ask me himself.” Saruhiko clicked his tongue angrily. 

“He thought I would be less… forceful about it, but I’m sure that he will pay you a visit as well.” Awashima sighed. “At least consider the offer some more.” 

“I will. Now, can you please lea—” 

“Because you have a boyfriend to tend to. I understand. Good night Fushimi and Yata.” 

“Night,” Yata called from where his head was in the refrigerator from putting things away. He only raised his head when he heard the door shut. “Why is she here?” he asked, letting the refrigerator door shut before turning to Saruhiko. 

“Nothing for you to worry about, Misaki.” He let out a tired breath and walked over. Yata couldn’t help but flick his eyes up and down Saru. He was wearing something a little different this afternoon, clearly not his usual jeans, long sleeve and jacket, but something more… casual? His ripped jeans were the first thing that attracted Yata’s eyes. He had only wore those once since the time that they’d become boyfriends; Yata had gone into a stuttering spree about how _good_ he looked in them, and since then he hadn’t worn them often, much to Yata’s displeasure. The next plus to the outfit was his low cut V-neck shirt; the cut was low enough that his identical Homra insignia was presented and some of the dragon tattoo was showing. He was also holding himself differently, slightly stiff yet oddly relaxed—like the last time he had wanted to try something new, like kissing. 

“Um… Hey, Saru. You have plans tonight?” he asked hesitantly, looking up at him. “J-just asking.” 

The artist shook his head. “No. Except eating and sleeping.” 

Yata nodded and tugged at his beanie slightly before saying. “Well, I just assumed that you wanted to do something special but nevermind then, I’ll just make dinner now.” He turned and went to put on his apron when Saruhiko stopped him. “What?” 

“I do have one thing planned…” the artist mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “But, I owe you something first.” He leaned down and kissed Yata softly before pulling back. “Seri was here and I didn’t want to embarrass you.” 

Yata couldn’t help but smile at his words. _Well, dinner can wait a minute, can’t it?_ The skater jumped to his toes and caught the taller man’s lips with his own, throwing his arms around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt Saru oblige and put his hands on his hips, quickly swiping his tongue across Yata’s bottom lip to gain entrance. The skater shivered slightly and a noise unwantedly slipped from him. 

Before he knew it, Saru had lifted him up onto the counter so he was standing between Yata’s legs. “Eh? Saru, wha—” Saru’s lips on his neck made him stall. One of Yata’s hands jumped up into his dark hair, encouraging the rough kisses against his mind’s will. _Is this want Saru want to try out?… wait… we haven’t had s-se-_ that _yet so…_ “Saru! Stop for a moment.” He used the hand that was in his hair to pull his head back, but he came up to see something starting to crawl into his boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. The skater’s heart leapt in his chest. “J-just for a moment.” 

Saruhiko rolled his eyes and pulled away from him, letting go of his sides. “What Misaki.” 

“Um…” He took a deep breath and said hurriedly. “I-if you wanted to have that tonight, can we just um… have dinner or at least talk about it.” Yata couldn’t say that he _didn’t_ want to try it out with Saru and he couldn’t say that he _hasn’t_ thought about doing with him, but they could still both agree to it before just jumping right into it. 

“You really thought I wanted to have _sex_ tonight?” Saru laughed and shook his head, his hands on his hips. “If you really want to do that, then you’ll have to wait to find out what I really wanted to show you.” 

“I…” Yata bit his lip on thought before answering. “What did you want to show me?” 

Saruhiko let the skater off of the counter before reaching into his pocket, tossing something at him, and striding off to the couch. “Your friend Chitose Yō gave that to me yesterday, by the way, so you guessed something right.” He looked down in his hands to find a condom packet. 

Internally cursing his friend under his breath and tossing the packet onto the counter, he followed his boyfriend over to the couch where he was setting something up on his laptop. “This was supposed to be for Christmas, but now is better.” Once Yata had settled down onto the couch next to him, he turned the laptop towards him. 

“What’s this?” On the laptop screen was displayed a model torso with some kind of red and black thing splayed across it. After a closer look, he realized that it was a flaming crow; it’s wings were spread out, one across the front and the other on the back, flames were leaking out from the bird’s feathers. “This is for me?” He spotted a name and date at the corner of the screen and his question was answered. _Yata Misaki October 27th._

He looked up at the artist who sat there, silent, but then moved to put an artbook in his hands. The skater skipped back to the “forbidden page” where, as expected, was the crow sketch. “Saru, this is so awesome!” His eyes sparkled as he stared at the picture, then at his boyfriend, then back again. The picture was beautiful. Yata ran his fingers over the sketch before facing Saru again. 

“You don’t have to get it. I just thought that you might find it cool or whatever,” Saruhiko mumbled embarrassed. 

The skater closed the art book and put it next to the laptop. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.” He turned so he was facing him before placing a kiss on his cheek. His eyes darted down to the flame tattoo on his collarbone. Yata raised a fist and gently put it against the symbol. “Hey, with this, it looks like we’re genuine partners.” A few days after the attack, Saru had gone and gotten his Homra tattoo done by Kuroh. Apparently, Saru had decided on his own in order to match Yata. 

“So you haven’t thought of me as your partner yet?” He quirked an eyebrow with a smirk. 

“Eh? O-of course I did. Do you even have to ask?” Yata masked his blunder with a small laugh. “But it’s awesome to have some proof right? Maybe we can be more than just partners in that way, maybe we could be like fighting partners in a battle. Wouldn’t that be cool?” 

“ _Tsk_. I guess.” He rolled his eyes, but the lightheartedness shone through. 

“Yeah. What about this? What if we were really partners in a parallel universe where we’re superheros!” Yata started to drift off into fantasy world but Saru didn’t pull him out of it this time; he just let him talk. “You could be the main action hero and I could be your sidekick!” 

“You would be better as the main hero.” 

“Nope! The hero has to be really cool and smart, just like you!” 

“And you’re not cool and smart?”

“You’re cooler and smarter than me, but anyways I like the idea of you being the main hero better than some lame sidekick” 

“Hm… you would be better as the damsel in distress who gets rescued by the hero.” 

“Oi! I’m not a girl!” 

“You would be a cute one though~” 

_Blush._ “Shut up.” 

* * *

“Saru! Saru! Wake up!” Misaki’s obnoxious yells and pushes broke Fushimi out of his quiet sleep. 

“Okay! I’m awake.” He fumbled for a moment before finding his glasses and putting them on. He looked up and saw his boyfriend sitting up and chatting to someone over the phone— _Fushimi’s_ phone.

Misaki smirked and said to the person on the other end of the conversation, “Yep! We’ll be over in a few if only Saruhiko gets his boney ass out of bed.” 

“I don’t have a ‘boney ass,’ and like you would know if it’s boney or not,” Fushimi grumbled, sliding out from under the warm covers and onto the floor. 

Misaki finished up his phone call before joining Fushimi in getting ready for the day. He walked out to the door where Fushimi was standing, frowning at the heavy new jacket. “We’re going to Homra. Totsuka called for you but you were asleep.” 

Fushimi told Misaki to wait as he sped off to the bedroom to dig something out of the closet before returning with a big bag. Fushimi pulled on his new blue jacket, gloves, and one of Misaki’s beanies that he’d stolen. “We can go now.” 

“Okay?” Misaki led the way out, eyeing the bag curiously but not asking. 

* * *

Fushimi didn’t know why they were at Homra this early in the morning; it was still dark out but Misaki seemed really intent on the idea of going there. Did something over the phone make him worried again? 

“We’re here!” Misaki pulled open the front doors with a joyous manner and walked inside, not paying attention when he let go of the doors and almost hitting Fushimi. 

Homra was bright as always, light glinting off of the shiny bar surface and alcohol bottles. The usual bartender was behind the bar—although the sight of him in sleeping clothes as opposed to the normal was a bit unnerving—and the couple was sitting on the stools in front of him. At the sound of the front doors opening, the pair turned around and looked at the newcomers. “Fushimi and Yata?” Totsuka called, his PDA still alight in his hands and a heavy black sweater sitting on his shoulders that Fushimi assumed was Mikoto’s because of how much bigger it was. 

“Yep!” Misaki ran up the bar, all giddy and happy. Fushimi frowned at his antics and assumed that they were from the upcoming holiday. “What do you need?” 

“Izumo wants you to help with decorations. I need to talk to Fushimi alone.” 

“Oh… okay. I’ll help.” Misaki nodded but flashed a worried glance at Fushimi before going off to find the decorations. 

Totsuka slid off the stool after placing his PDA on the bartop and grabbing a journal. Fushimi was going to ask where they should talk privately when Totsuka answered, “Bedroom would be fine to talk. It’s just for a few minutes.” 

The artist gave him confirmation before heading up the stairs but he stopped when he heard a small thump. He glanced down to see that Totsuka was still standing at the bottom, a pained look plastered across his face. Fushimi could tell that it wasn’t from softly bumping against the handrail and bottom step. Fushimi knew better than to offer to help him, seeing how fixated he was on finding his way on his own. 

The two of them soon made it up the stairs and into the bedroom. Fushimi put his bag down and looked around the room. It was a bit more messy this time than the last time Fushimi had been in this room. The bedcovers were pulled back and the pillows were pushed aside. A small pile of clothes could be seen in the bathroom but overall, it was still the same. 

Totsuka found the bed and sat down, patting the bed next to him. Fushimi sat down on command, feeling a bit awkward at the current situation with his blindness. Totsuka spoke. “I’m sorry I called you that night of the attack. I didn’t realize how strong those guys were and that you would get hurt. Please forgive me.” 

“Okay.” Fushimi didn’t know what to say. He had already forgiven him a long time ago. It had obviously not been his fault that the two of them had gotten hurt.

“And also—” The gang member put the journal in the artist’s hands. Fushimi instantly recognized that it was Misaki’s journal. “—here’s this, Yata’s journal. He showed this to you right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You should keep it, since I’m blind now and can’t write. I wouldn’t be surprised if Yata went into another panic attack because of what recently happened. But I need you to watch over him from now on.” A stubborn look crossed his face. 

“Of course.” Speaking of panic attacks, Misaki had had a few over the last few weeks that usually resulted in him crying and sobbing, scared that somehow Totsuka died in the hospital or that Fushimi would get jumped on the way home. Misaki had gotten so worried that he’d practically forced Fushimi to move in with him and to text him whenever he got o the tattoo shop. Fushimi didn’t mind this; he understood why Misaki was so worried. Although it had gotten annoying at the beginning right after the attack, Fushimi was alright with it. 

Fushimi looked at the bag he had placed on the floor then looked at Totsuka for a moment before asking and blushing softly, “Can you help me wrap Christmas presents for Misaki?” Over the past month, the artist had collected things that he’d thought Misaki would like. He knew that his boyfriend was going to go all out and buy him presents and things, like he’d done for his birthday, so Fushimi decided that it would only be fair to make this Christmas one of Misaki’s favorites too… but the only problem was that Fushimi had never had a Christmas before. The only things he knew about the holiday was the traditions and what he saw in books and movies. He had no real experience with the holiday. 

Totsuka frowned and his fingers started to nervously pull at his ring before her let it go and nodded. “I’ll try my best. But can you do something for me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I want to get King a few things but I couldn’t because of the attack. Could you get them for me? I would go with you but it’s just…” He sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. “It’s just that I need to adjust to my situation and I need help.” 

Fushimi thought for a moment. He knew nothing about blind people and their conditions but seeing how capable Totsuka had been so far even with the expected unsureness on where he was walking or touching, he assumed that he could take on the challenge of going outside in public. Although it would be a bother bringing someone along, he still owed Totsuka a lot and he could take a little bit of his time to go out with him. It wasn’t like he had anything else to do that day. “ _We_ can go out and get Mikoto’s presents.” 

“But I—” 

“If you want Mikoto to be happy tomorrow, you should get the present yourself,” Fushimi said firmly, surprising the other man. 

“O-okay.” A smile lifted on his face at the thought and nodded. “Let’s get those presents wrapped then.” 

Totsuka told Fushimi what supplies he needed to wrap the presents and got Mikoto to join them. The three of them settled on the floor of the bedroom with the bag of gifts in front of them. The artist flashed an unsure glance at the king, who was eyeing the wrapping paper as if it was an unknown object. 

Fushimi glanced up when he heard Totsuka laugh softly under his breath. “This is going to be difficult to teach but we can work this out. So…. let’s try the biggest gift first.” Fushimi pushed the biggest box over to Totsuka’s waiting hands. “What is it?” 

“Skateboard.” 

“Wait really?!” Totsuka gasped loudly as if it was his own present. “When did you get this?! What does it look like?!” The gang member only calmed down when the king reminded him that Misaki was downstairs, but he looked less like he was scolding him and more like he was enjoying the moment; a smile was spread across his face at Totsuka’s excited exclamations. 

“It’s the only thing Misaki wanted to get right before the JUNGLE party. I got it designed just as he wanted it to be,” Fushimi mumbled, embarrassed that he was letting the two men see how much he valued Misaki. 

“That’s cool! But we have to wrap it now.” 

Mikoto and Fushimi tried their best to follow Totsuka’s carefully thought-out verbal demonstration on how to wrap Christmas presents. Not surprisingly, Fushimi wrapped the skateboard better than how Mikoto wrapped the next biggest present; the artist’s nimble, trained hands worked better than Mikoto’s rough yet gentle ones. But, depressingly, both of the gifts lacked the normal perfectly smooth and unwrinkled wrappings of the stereotypical Christmas gift. 

The three men ended up having Kusanagi and Anna wrap the rest of the presents so there wouldn’t be any more mishaps, so Mikoto, Fushimi, and Totsuka were put on decorations and preparing duties with Misaki. 

Halfway through Mikoto and Misaki’s adventure of setting up the Christmas tree, Fushimi felt a tug on his arm. Totsuka was holding on his arm, the pained look back on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

The gang member held onto Fushimi’s arm tighter than said softly. “I think we should go get King’s gift now. It’s too busy in here.” And it was—Misaki was hopping around, upset that he was too short to reach the top of the tree, a few customers had came in and started to chat with Kusanagi, Kamamoto was in the kitchen, and Eric and Kōsuke came in to work on the outside. It was quite easy to see how Totsuka could get overwhelmed with the noise and ruckus. 

“Okay. Wait here. I’ll get our stuff.” Fushimi detached the gang member from his arm before going upstairs to put his knife harness back on and to grab their jackets. He was about to go back downstairs when he spotted a folded up walking stick and blacked out glasses. The hospital had given them to Totsuka for outdoor use, so Fushimi grabbed them and headed back down to the bar. 

They both got dressed for outside before the artist handed him the walking stick and glasses. “What’s this?” 

When Fushimi explained what it is and what it is used for, Totsuka got upset and pushed them away, saying that he wasn’t going to be using a damn stick and that he was fine the way he was. This response received a wided eyed look from Fushimi and a worried glance from Mikoto, who was listening from nearby. The artist stuck them in his pocket and turned to call to Misaki. “Misaki. Totsuka and I are going out for a bit.” 

“Why?” Misaki hung a delicate red orb on the tree before walking over to them. 

“Just some fresh air. We won’t be too long.” 

The skater nodded but said. “Just… just text me if something goes wrong—anything. Please.” 

“Of course.” Fushimi dipped his head and gave Misaki a soft peck on the lips before making sure that the gang member was holding onto his arm to lead him to the door and outside. 

The streets outside of Homra were rather quiet, the bar sitting on the corner of the block. The red wooden walls stood out bright against the snow that reached just under the windows. The scenery seemed almost aesthetic with its calm feeling and the stillness of the surrounding buildings. Fushimi assumed that the snow was making him feel that way, covering odd areas like a blanket. He wished Totsuka could see it…

“Um… Fushimi? Why are we just standing here?” The man holding onto his arm asked, unsure what was stopping them. 

“Nothing. Where do you want to go?” 

“Oh come on. Tell me.” He flashed a soft smile up at him, making Fushimi click his tongue and look away. 

“Everything looks pretty,” Fushimi muttered.

“And…?”Totsuka urged him to go on. 

“Um…” The artist glanced around for a moment before saying, “Snow is piled up everywhere, it looks almost like a blanket. Everything is still but it’s not a creepy still, it’s more of a calm still. Homra Bar looks prettier than usual with the Christmas lights around the doors and windows. If there were no footprints in the snow, it would be picture perfect.” He puffed a breath of air, which made a little cloud in front of his face. “The sky is dark like it’s going to snow again but it’s light enough so the sun can poke through…” Fushimi didn’t realize how sentimental he was becoming. It was truly beautiful out—even a man who usually ignored nature like himself couldn’t help but appreciate it. 

“Hmm…” Totsuka hummed and smiled, tightening his grip on Fushimi’s elbow. “Sounds really pretty, but let’s go get those presents.” 

The pair walked down the street towards the shopping plaza, the artist guiding the gang member gently. Totsuka asked for a scenery check multiple times on their walk, saying that it would make him feel better to know exactly where they were. Fushimi obliged and told him each time without question. He didn’t know exactly why he was being so kind to Totsuka…maybe out of guilt? The feeling that the man was… his friend? The debt that Fushimi felt that he had towards him? Or maybe a mix of those feelings? Fushimi didn’t know and to be honest, he didn’t want to know. Totsuka was a good person and didn’t deserve this, so whatever Fushimi could do to help, he would. 

The gang member nudged him and asked where they were. Fushimi glanced around. “There’s an arcade coming up ahead and the building after it it looks like a toy shop.” 

“Oh! Is the toy shop yellow and blue?” he asked hesitantly, trying to remember what the place looked like. 

“Uh… Yes, it is actually. Is that where you want to go?” 

“Yep!” Totsuka nodded happily. 

They passed the arcade and walked into the toy shop. Fushimi was confused as to why they were there of all places for Mikoto, but he couldn’t argue with it. The artist glanced at the man as he tensed and clung to his arm, a scared look passing over his face. Fushimi was going to ask what was wrong when Totsuka started to talk. “Just lead me to the desk. I have to ask the clerk for it.” 

Fushimi did as he asked, making sure that he didn’t let Totsuka bump into displays or people on the way over. They waited for a little girl and her mother to leave before stepping up to the counter. “Hello! What may I help you with?” the clerk asked, looking at the pair. A smile was stuck on her face. 

Totsuka stiffened again before letting out a breath and asking, “Is there a hold for me, Tatara Totsuka? I placed a hold on a certain stuffed animal at the beginning of this month but because of complicated reasons, I couldn’t get it until now.” 

The woman’s smiled faltered for a moment before straightening back out. “I’m sorry sir, but we can only hold things for a week.” 

“So it isn’t here any more?” Panic filled Totsuka’s voice at her news. 

Fushimi spoke up for Totsuka. “I want to see your manager. Now.” The woman nodded and ran off. 

The artist turned to his nearly panicking friend who was tugging at his gloves. “Totsuka… is this why you went out that night? To pick up this… stuffed animal?” he asked softly, wanting to make sure of something. 

Totsuka nodded and pressed up against Fushimi. 

The manager came back and moved the pair to the side to talk. The man was as tall as Mikoto yet probably twenty years older. He looked tired and annoyed at the same time. “What do you need?” His voice sounded just as he felt, which struck a nerve in Fushimi. 

“We want to get the product that was on hold for us at the beginning of this month.” The manager went to say something but Fushimi cut him off. “Yes, I know about the one week policy, but you are going to get this man his stuffed animal.” The anger was clear in the artist’s voice, so strong that even Totsuka flinched. 

“And why should I do that? He signed a paper saying that he would abide to the rules: no returns and no pick-ups after one week.” 

“You know why you should do that? Well, maybe because he was on time to pick it up but he got _chased by a fucking gang_ ,” Fushimi hissed at the man. “And you know what? He got blinded by that gang that night because he was abiding by your stupid policy.” 

The manager glanced at Totsuka shying away from the pissed off artist, not really knowing what was going on. Many of the customers stopped their business to watch. “Oh…” 

“ _Oh_. Is that it? Just _Oh_?” He didn’t know why he was getting so upset. “I think he deserves the stuff animal. It wasn’t even for him and he ran here to come get it.” 

“Y-yes sir.” The manager finally cracked and ran off to the back room. 

Fushimi let out a breath to calm his nerves before looking at Totsuka. “I’m sorry.” It was obvious that he had scared him. 

“I-it’s fine. You were just doing it for me. Thank you.” 

“You’re… welcome,” Fushimi mumbled, yet he was happy that he’d helped him. 

The manager came back a moment later and gave them the toy for free before running off again. Totsuka laughed at the man’s scared antics and hugged the stuffed animal to his chest. Now Fushimi could see why he wanted to give it to Mikoto—it was a big, fluffy lion. It was about a foot and a half long and very plushy. Totsuka looked like a child holding and cuddling it. 

They left the toy shop and started to walk back to Homra, Totsuka saying that he was too tired to get gifts for everyone but that it was the thought that counted anyways. He had gotten a few presents early via Kusanagi while he was in the hospital. It had started to gently snow, making Totsuka jump and laugh every time a flake fell on him. 

The smell of hot cocoa made Fushimi stop as someone passed by them on her way out of a coffee shop. Totsuka asked why they’d stopped and the artist explained, which wasn’t the best idea since the man suddenly started to drag Fushimi in the direction that he assumed the shop was in before Fushimi corrected him and lead him inside. 

Luckily, there was no line, so the pair went right up to the counter. “Two hot cocoas,” Fushimi ordered, placing money on the counter. 

“Two cocoas for the couple,” The lady called to her coworker preparing drinks. 

“Couple?” Totsuka asked. 

“What? You guys aren’t a couple?” The lady blushed. “I’m sorry.” 

Fushimi thought for a moment, wondering why she would assume that they were together before it clicked that the way that Totsuka was holding onto him made it look like they were a cute couple on a Christmas date. The artist would’ve assume it too if he didn’t know better. 

Fushimi smiled and shook his head, gladly taking his hot cocoa from the café lady. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHRISTMAS!!!!! Yay! This chapter was on Christmas Eve while the next one will be Christmas Day. I wanted to combine the two chapters into one but that might take a while so I won’t. I really want to make the next chapter Sarumi but I want to continue the pattern of Sarumi then Mikototsu. Wait…. I can just make it like a part two of this chapter. That would work right?
> 
> I’m using foreshadowing! I didn’t know if it would work out but I made it work! Remember that skateboard shop? That’s Misaki’s new skateboard! 
> 
> I REALLY WANT CHRISTMAS PRESENT IDEASSSSSSS Please! Mostly for Mikoto, Totsuka, Misaki and Fushimi because those are the mains but any other person is cool too.
> 
> Oh, and I’m going to incorporate more Munakata for those who like him. I know I’m lacking him and that’s a major part in [K] so yeah. :D


	3. “Um… Misaki. Can I… take a picture?” Christmas Special ~ Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve cont.!! Cute, fluffy cookie time and presents. Saruhiko and Totsuka depend on each other for help with their problems. (Some Sarumi fluff)  
> Enjoy!

Misaki frowned at his boyfriend and best friend. They both were covered in snow and dripping onto the floor. There was an innocent smile on Totsuka’s face as he tossed away the bag he was holding, which luckily wasn’t wet nor covered in snow. Fushimi smirked at Misaki’s anger and took off his beanie, ruffling his hair so the snow fell out and scattered over the floor.

“What happened to you?” Kusanagi asked from across the room, hiding behind his bar as usual. Fushimi went to answer but the bartender shook his head. “Wait. Don’t answer that until the both of you are undressed. I don’t want my bar wet.” 

Misaki puffed out a breath of air, making one of his bangs jump up, before going into the kitchen to grab a garbage bag to put the wet clothes in to wash. Fushimi and Totsuka rid themselves of their wet winter wear and tossed them into the bag. They went upstairs to find pants that would fit them since they were also soaked.

The pair came back downstairs quickly, quick despite Totsuka’s hesitation to go down at first. Totsuka was wearing soft black pants and Fushimi had borrowed a pair of Mikoto’s loose plaid pants. Fushimi helped Totsuka to his barstool before sitting down to face a disgruntled boyfriend and an agitated bartender. Totsuka noticed the silence and spoke. “What?” 

“Explain the snow all over the front of my bar and why you were gone for an hour.” Kusanagi leaned on the counter. 

Totsuka started to giggle and Fushimi just grinned at the memory. “He’s a good wrestler for a blind man.” Misaki’s confused look made Fushimi continue. “After getting hot chocolate… I kinda pushed him into a snow pile at the park but he ended up dragging me down too. He won and then tried to bury me while I was stunned.”

“Oh come on. You let me win. You could’ve easily buried me.” Totsuka smiled brightly. 

The artist rolled his eyes and ran his hand through his damp hair. “Whatever you want to think.” 

Both Misaki and Kusanagi were giving them disapproving looks. The bartender straightened up and crossed his arms, his purple sunglasses glinting. His face was completely serious and he was glaring at Fushimi. “I thought you were going to take care of him, not fool around with him. You could’ve hurt him—or worse, scared him.” 

“I don’t need taking care of! I’m the older one,” Totsuka interjected. He seemed quite annoyed by what Kusanagi was saying and Fushimi understood. The gang member was still capable, much more capable than most newly-blinded people would be. Instead of getting scared after bumping into someone, he would just hold onto the artist more tightly and quickly apologize with a soft smile. Instead of getting scared when Fushimi left him alone for a moment to go to the bathroom and someone approached him to ask for directions, Totsuka patiently apologized and said that his friend might know, then waited for Fushimi to come back and give directions. But… there was something unusual about Totsuka’s condition that bothered Fushimi. 

“Totsuka. We’re just trying to—” 

“I get it Izumo. You think that I’m helpless and can’t do anything alone. You know what? I went out today and got King a present by _myself._ I’m not helpless. Just ask Fushimi! He was with me all day.” The man’s chest rose and fell heavily, his hand clawing at the other. The room went completely quiet as the gang member spoke those forceful words.

Kusanagi was starting to apologize when Totsuka half-stood, half-fell out of his seat while trying to back away. “Just stop worrying about me. _Please_. I-I’m fine.” He put his hands up as if to defend himself from his friend’s worried thoughts, but this only caused the worry in Fushimi to escalate. Totsuka’s left hand was red from the scratch marks that he’d created, especially on his ring finger where the silver engagement ring sat. “I just want to go upstairs. Fushimi…” 

The artist nodded and got up, grabbing the king’s gift bag and Totsuka’s shoulder before carefully ushering him to the staircase. He dipped his head, embarrassed by the stares of his fellow clansmen. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mikoto walking into the bar but he ignored the man and gently lead Totsuka up the stairs. 

_What’s wrong with you, Totsuka?_ Fushimi watched as the gang member plopped down on the bed, only to sit down on a paper roll that he pushed away. The artist took a deep breath before carefully picking his words and asking gently, “Totsuka, what’s wrong? Yes, I know what’s _wrong,_ but I don’t know what’s _wrong_. I’m just trying to be your… friend or whatever and trying to help.” He mumbled the last part, still uncomfortable with the idea of having friends.

The gang member just shrugged and rubbed his eyes roughly. “Don’t you start pitying me too.” He flinched as his own words and their harshness. Fushimi was watching him with wide, shocked eyes. “I-I’m sorry. I’m not trying to get mad.” 

The artist gulped a little watching as his friend tore himself from the inside out. “It’s um… fine. Neither I, nor the others, are pitying you. They just want to make sure that you’re safe, it’s just that some people show it differently than others.” 

“But you don’t coddle me like the others.” 

“Because I don’t like coddling.” Fushimi opened the bag in his hand and pulled out the lion stuffed animal. His mane was long and soft, like Mikoto’s (not that Fushimi knew that it was soft, of course—he wasn’t going to touch that man’s hair anytime soon). Fushimi stepped around the big pile of presents waiting to go downstairs over to Totsuka. 

The man looked up at him like he knew exactly where his face was, which freaked Fushimi out a little, but he shook the feeling off and dropped the animal into his lap. Totsuka flinched a bit at the unexpected drop but wrapped his arms around the stuffed animal anyways and nuzzled the red mane. “Hey… Fushimi? Could you maybe not tell King about this? I don’t want to ruin his Christmas.” 

“Yeah.” He sighed tiredly, annoyed that they were talking about feelings. Feelings were disgusting in his opinion. They were just a nuisance that got in the way of rational reason; he had long since found a way to turn off most of his own nuisance feelings, but after he met Misaki, he let himself be consumed with the better feelings that he had once shut away. 

Totsuka suddenly jolted and stared at the doorway, his arms tightening around the lion. “K-King?” 

“No one is there Tot- oh.” 

The king was there. He stepped out of the hallway and into the room, pushing the door open so that Fushimi could see him. Mikoto huffed, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to Totsuka and patted his head—his own signature act. “King?”

Mikoto shot a look at Fushimi, who was just standing there and watching the couple. He looked back down at his finecé and mumbled, “Yata told me what happened.”

Totsuka frowned and nodded. “I didn’t mean to get upset at them. It’s just that they were bothering me with the whole ‘take care of the blind man’ thing.” The gang member sighed and held up the lion stuffed animal to Mikoto. “This is for you. Sorry it’s not wrapped.” 

“Thanks,” The king rumbled, but he pushed the toy back into Totsuka’s hands. “You need it more.” 

Fushimi was in the middle of the process of edging out of the room to get back downstairs to his boyfriend when Mikoto looked up and caught him. “Where are you going?” 

“Downstairs.” The artist flashed him an uncomfortable look. 

The king nodded and let him go. 

* * *

“Saru! Can you help me make these cookies please? It’s almost seven already!” Yata tugged on his boyfriend’s arm. Saru glared up at him from the couch where he sat with Anna half-asleep on his lap. 

“Go find Kamamoto. He could help you.” He sighed, but he had to already know full well that Yata would force him to help; why else would he ask someone unable to cook? Yata tugged on his arm again but Saru shook him off and gently lifted the sleeping girl off of his lap and onto the couch. He snatched the apron that Yata was brandishing in his face as he stood up. “You expect me to put this on?” 

“You don’t have to, but I would like it if you did.” The skater shrugged. He was sporting his own red apron. “At least you have the black one.”

“And why is that?” Saruhiko smirked and slipped the loop over his head as he walked into the kitchen with Yata. 

Yata shrugged. “Maybe because I know you’re so picky that you can’t even wear a color other than black and blue.” He grabbed the strings to tie up the back. Saruhiko didn’t answer but Yata could tell that he was rolling his eyes at his comment. The skater started to tie the apron on when he noticed the perfect snuggle spot on his boyfriend—the soft curve that ran from his neck and shoulder. Yata smiled, dropping his head there and wrapping his arms around his surprised boyfriend’s waist. 

“Misaki. What are you doing?” he asked, wriggling a bit, but Yata held on. 

Yata just smiled more and nuzzled the back of his neck, Saru’s dark hair tickling his face. “Don’t ruin the moment,” Yata’s replied, his voice muffled and his arms squeezing Saru’s waist. 

“There was never a moment,” Saru mumbled, but he relaxed in his boyfriend’s arms. 

“You want me to make a moment then?” Yata placed a small kiss on the side of his neck. He didn’t know where he was suddenly getting this confidence but couldn’t care less, he just wanted to see Saruhiko uncharacteristically blush. 

Saru gave him a questioning look but turned around in his arms anyways, which was a bad idea on his part because Yata pushed him up against the counter and started to kiss him. The artist indulged in the kiss for a moment before pushing him off. “Stop. What if someone comes in?” A blush crossed across his cheekbones. Yata had successfully reached his goal. 

“Then let them come in.” Yata smirked and pressed a kiss on the corner of his scowling mouth. “Or are you too shy, _blushing virgin_.” 

“At least I don’t deny it like you. And that’s my line anyways.” Saruhiko clicked his tongue, but a hint of amusement slipped through. 

“But I’m not a virgin.” The raised eyebrow made Yata roll his eyes and scoff. “Fine. I’m not _not_ a virgin. Whatever, like it matters anyways.” He ignored his boyfriend’s disapproving roll of the eyes at the poor grammar. 

“But it does matter Mi~Sa~Ki~. Do you want me to be jealous of who took it away from you?” he whispered, smirking evilly. Yata didn’t realize that Saru had turned the conversation his way with his good comebacks, which made Yata’s attempt to coax a blush out of him look futile.

“Eh? You would?” 

Saru rolled his eyes and dislodged himself from where Yata had him pinned up on the counter. He brushed some dust off of his apron with the back of his hand. “Tsk, I said that, didn’t I?” 

“T-there’s no need to be jealous because I didn’t do it with anyone. I really couldn’t care less about doing it or something like it with someone unless it was with you, to be honest.” The words flowed from his mouth with no prior thought behind it.

A lifetime seemed to pass before what Yata had said clicked in his mind. A full body blush lept up onto his skin, like his aura had turned on without command. Saru had an equally deep blush on his cheeks and up his neck as well, plus his ears had turned pink. The skater went into a full-on stutter-blush spree, practically melting onto the floor in shame when the artist just sheepishly clicked his tongue and mumbled, “Me too.” 

“Really?!” 

“Yata, Fushimi. You two might want to calm down before you catch anymore attention.” Kusanagi’s voice made the both of them jump. Yata practically turned from a pool of shame to a gas of humiliation in .5 seconds. The bartender’s hand was resting on a little’s girl’s head, whose face was covered up by her camera, but the bright white hair and the black and red dress made it clear who the girl was. They both were standing at the doorway, watching the pair blush.

Yata somehow both paled and turned even brighter at the sight of the camera while unsuccessfully trying to hide behind Saru. “How long have you been standing there?!” 

“Me? Just to hear the ending. Anna? Since you walked in I think.” Kusanagi chuckled. “Come on Anna, I think the boys had enough time being recorded.” 

“But they haven’t made the cookies yet,” Anna’s soft voice replied, holding Totsuka’s camera firmly in her hands. Earlier, Totsuka had asked the girl to go around and film everything for him—although he probably hadn’t meant to film Yata and Saruhiko’s private kiss and conversation. She must of woken up after Saruhiko stood up. 

“Maybe you could watch them later.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Anna nodded and turned around, following Kusanagi back into the main bar. 

After calming down from the blush attack, Yata pulled everything that they needed out of the cabinets and fridge. He pulled up a recipe on his PDAWatch as Saruhiko eyed the cooking supplies like he’d never seen them before. After peering at the hologram instructions, Yata smiled and nudged him. “Come on. We just have to cut the shapes out; I made the dough earlier.” He quickly tapped away on his watch so the hologram disappeared.

Saruhiko nodded and watched as the skater grabbed the rolling pin and the dough. He instructed Saru to put some flour onto the counter before he dropped the dough and started to roll it. Powder whooshed up into the air, his red apron catching it before it landed on him or the floor. 

Once he finished rolling out the dough into a long sheet, he looked up at Saru. “Pick out some cookie cutters that you want to use.” Saruhiko nodded and frowned down at the cookie cutters laid out in front of him. He was hesitant at first but soon grabbed a few and dropped them into Yata’s hands. 

Yata looked over the choices the artist had made and smiled. The usual Christmas tree and candy cane were in the pile, but the hearts from Valentine’s Day and the cat made Yata grin. He gave Saruhiko the Christmas tree, cat and a heart. “So… watch me.” The skater placed the candy cane cutter onto the dough and gently pushed down until the dough was cut all the way down, then he shook it a little to separate the cut dough and the outside dough so he could lift it up without any problem. After that, he dropped the newly cut candy cane onto the cookie sheet. “It’s your turn now.” 

Saruhiko grimaced and picked up the silver tree cutter. 

* * *

Seven quickly came around when the pair finished the cookies. Misaki had finished his half long before Fushimi did; the artist had taken so long because he wanted to get the icing precise, which turned out to be a good thing because they looked much better than Misaki’s. The plate of cookies currently sat out on the bar top, Fushimi’s delicately designed sugar cookies placed on top. 

“I don’t want to,” Fushimi sighed, sitting on the couch between Mikoto and Kōsuke with Totsuka and Eric on their laps. 

“It saves room so we’re having all of the couples sit on each other’s laps. Homra has grown a lot over the years,” Totsuka said, snuggling back into his financé’s chest and arms. 

Eric looked like an overgrown baby, pouting and fidgeting in his partner’s lap until Kōsuke whispered in his ear which efficiently calmed him down. The artist didn’t know that the pair of them were together besides the time during the Halloween Pocky kiss game and their matching cop costumes. 

Fushimi ended up sighing and opening his arms. Misaki blushed and dropped down into the artist’s lap. Luckily, Misaki wasn’t too heavy and fit comfortably in his lap. 

During their cookie time, Misaki had explained what was so special about being out in the bar by seven. Homra celebrated Christmas on the eve due to business so every year, by seven, Homra members would open presents and have a mini party before the next day. It also became tradition for there to be a “Santa” who handed out the presents. In past years, Totsuka would be the excited one handing the presents out but due to his condition, Anna had decided to do it this year. 

Speaking of presents, Fushimi noticed that his gifts stood out against the others, the blue sprinkled in with the oranges and reds. He frowned as the realization sunk in like many times before that he was so different from the rest. 

“You okay?” Fushimi looked up sharply from where he was staring at the presents, thinking, when Totsuka reached over and nudged him. 

“Just thinking,” he mumbled, reaching up and wrapping his arms comfortably around his boyfriend’s waist. 

“About?” 

“My presents stand out against the others,” the artist mumbled, then explained why for Totsuka’s benefit. 

The gang member grinned and shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s good that you stand out. We finally have the blue in our flame to make it stronger. You already know this but when a flame gets hot enough, the core will get blue—right King?” The king let out an affirmative grunt. “So you make us better! All we needed was the blue and we now have it.” 

It did make sense from what he was saying, so Fushimi dropped the issue when Anna walked into the room with a Santa hat on. She grabbed the first blue present from the tree and walked up to Misaki and Fushimi. 

_To: Saruhiko  
_From: Yata__

The artist sighed, annoyed that he had to get the first present, but he accepted it anyways. Misaki flashed a smile at him as he gently started to unwrap the circular package. After tossing away the paper and sticking the bow on a disapproving Misaki, he looked at what he’d gotten. A tube sat in his hands, decorated with spatter paint of blacks and whites. When he pulled off the top of tube to see what was inside, pens and markers slipped out into his hands.

“I really don’t like the idea of getting more tattoos, to be honest, but I thought that you could maybe draw on me if you wanted to,” he said softly, explaining the reason behind the gift. 

Fushimi couldn’t help but smile and brush his lips over Misaki’s cheek in thanks before setting it down. 

Anna had passed out a few more in the time that Fushimi opened his. Mikoto had received a brightly red scarf from Kusanagi, which Totsuka insisted on wrapping around his neck. But when he turned back around, Anna dropped another present in his lap. 

_To: Totsuka  
_From: Fushimi__

Mikoto read the tag aloud to him. Totsuka flashed Fushimi a smile before delicately pulling the paper off so not to hurt the gift. He dropped the shining tan paper onto the ground. “Book?” He ran his hands over the cover, then flipped it open to a random page and touched the paper. “Is this braille kaiji?” 

“Yeah.” Fushimi nodded, watching his friend inspect the gift with his hands. “It’s going to be hard to read and you’re going to have to relearn it but I thought it would be a good goal for you,” he said, slightly embarrassed by the whole gift exchange since he wasn’t used to it. 

“Oh. This is cool. Thanks Fushimi!” he said happily, showing the book off to Mikoto and looking through it with his fingers as a gift was dropped into Misaki’s lap. 

Fushimi let out an audible groan at the sight of the present, knowing exactly what was going to come from it. He squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the excited ripping of paper and the nearly ear-splitting scream that came from the smaller man in his lap as he jerked the box open. “HOLY SHIT SARU!!!” A bark came from across of room to keep the language down but Misaki obviously ignored it. 

Fushimi opened his eyes to see Misaki’s sparkling eyes looking over his new beautiful skateboard. Flames and the Homra insignia shown bright against the black of the board. Misaki hugged it tightly and started to bounce in his lap excitedly. “Saruuuuu I told you not to get this for me,” he whined. 

“Ow, Misaki,” the artist hissed as the man’s elbow hit his shoulder, but he couldn’t hide that he was glad that Misaki was so happy. 

“Thank you thank you thank you!” He smiled widely and hugged the skateboard tighter. Fushimi rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but stare at his boyfriend. He looked beautiful, hugging and smiling at him. He was shining like a star, his eyes bright and his beanie half-falling off from his excitement, but it was adorable. Picture perfect, in fact. 

The artist hesitantly got his PDA out. “Um… Misaki. Can I… take a picture?” he mumbled. He could feel his neck getting hot. 

“Yeah! You can do anything you want!” 

Fushimi slowly lifted his PDA and took a picture of his excited boyfriend. He couldn’t help but grin to himself. He looked for the camera to see it was pointed at them—it wasn't—before pressing a kiss to Misaki’s cheek. 

Presents had continued to be handed out during Misaki’s happy freak-out session. By the time it got dark outside, all of the presents were handed out and the wrapping paper was put in the trash. Fushimi got another picture of Misaki after everyone decided to stick their bows onto him and with the skateboard that he hadn’t let go of until Kusanagi started to hand out drinks. 

Fushimi and Totsuka had both moved to the bar when the guys had gotten drinks and Chitose’s girlfriend had come in to celebrate with him. Totsuka had mumbled that it was getting too overwhelming so Fushimi let him sit next to him at the back corner of the bar counter. The artist had a match packet in his hands, his fingers nervously flicking it open and closed. 

“How are you guys doing?” Fushimi looked up when Kusanagi walked over and leaned on the counter, eyeing the artist. “You’re not going to drink are you?” 

The artist glanced at the rest of the bar at the guys; most of them had beers while a couple had delicate drinks custom-made by the bartender. Misaki was holding his own beer, elbowing Eric in the ribs for calling him a “chihuahua”; Fushimi didn’t know how he felt about Misaki drinking—Fushimi himself wasn’t going to drink unless it was one of Kusanagi’s light light drinks, not after the JUNGLE party. The only reason that Fushimi had forgotten most of that night after the drink was because he’d actually never had a strong drink before, and since he was very lightweight it wasn’t surprising that he had spilled some secrets to Misaki. He was just glad that he hadn’t gotten terribly drunk. “No. A few of us have to look after them while they have fun.” He sighed, fixing the beanie the sat on his head. He felt comfortable with it on, kinda like the “boyfriend sweater” feeling. 

Kusanagi chuckled. “True. How are you doing Totsuka?” 

The man looked up. “I’m good. It’s just too… overwhelming for me right now, and no I can’t drink with my medicine.” 

“Ah, okay. I’ll give you guys something light for Fushimi and some juice for you, Totsuka.” The bartender left to take care of the drinks for a moment before walking back over and placing the drinks in front of them. “There you go.” 

Fushimi watched as Totsuka uncertainly reached forward before his fingers bumped the glass. The man seemed to realize that he was being stared at because he said, “I don’t need to be watched, you know. I’m fine.” 

The artist went to respond when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. “Yo, Fushimi.” It was Chitose with his pretty black-haired girlfriend. She waved with her delicately-painted fingers with a small smile when he looked at her. 

“What do you want?” he asked stiffly, remembering what they had talked about yesterday. 

Chitose leaned down to whisper to him. “You guys didn’t do it, I see. I thought we made a promise?” 

“Do what?” Totsuka chimed in, hearing the whisper, but the men ignored him. 

“I doesn’t matter, okay? I tried but Misaki stopped me… but he does want to do something with me,” Fushimi mumbled, looking away. “Why do you care anyways? I have nothing to do with you.” 

The man grinned and shook his head. “Maybe because I love drama?” He got off of Fushimi and put his hand on his girl’s waist. “See you later then. Bye Fushimi, Totsuka.” 

“Bye!” Totsuka chirped, waving his hand in their direction as Chitose and his girlfriend walked off. Her pretty purple dress barely touched the ground as she walked out of the door, the ruffles bouncing at every step. She had a strong walk, straight-backed. _Proud._

~~~ 

_Fushimi cast his eyes down as he pushed the always-unlocked doors open. He knew his father wouldn’t be here. His body had gotten the best of him and started to shut down, one organ after another. The doctors said that it was because of poor food habits and other things—Fushimi wouldn’t be surprised if it was really drugs that took him._

_Fushimi was only 15 at the time, but he was mature for his age; he was able to take care for himself well enough that he didn’t need any family (except for the money he was able to take from his mother’s bank account since it was so large that she would never notice). Most nights he would spend at the back of an Internet cafe, hiding from the demons that lived at the mansion, but he always had to go back to keep things looking like someone still lived there. Today was one of those days that he had to come home. He knew that it would be dreadful but he wasn’t prepared for what he saw when he looked up._

_A woman stood on the staircase, her dress beautiful and sparkling in the light—each little ruffle of her purple dress must’ve cost hundreds of dollars. The purple dress was cut down the side to reveal her leg and heels. But when he looked up at the woman’s face, it wasn’t brilliant and beautiful like her dress, it was distraught and unruly. Yes, she was a pretty and strong woman but who she was inside was ugly. She was uptight and prideful, the CEO of a very big and wealthy company that spread all across Japan. She was the perfect match for the job: smart, tough, and sturdy, but most of all proud. Proud of who she was, proud of her status, proud of her achievements. But the one thing that she wasn’t proud of was the man she had married and her son. She was so disappointed that she wouldn’t even look at the two of them, nor even refer to them by name, instead calling them “Niki’s son” or “Saruhiko’s father”._

_This was Fushimi’s mother: Fushimi Kisa._

_“Are you always late?” were her first words when Fushimi walked into the mansion._

_The boy didn’t say anything, he didn’t have anything to say to her. After years of not being home, she didn’t deserve a proper hello._

_Fushimi was about to walk away when his mother spoke. “Hey, it’s about Niki. It’d be better to tell you now, since genetically speaking he is your father. It seemed that he was hospitalized. I also just heard of it the day before yesterday.”_

_Fushimi had also heard of it that day too. He had gotten a phone call saying that Niki had been found on the streets and had to be put in the hospital. Surprisingly, his father had had Fushimi’s number on his emergency contact list. “Hospitalized? Why?” he asked. It was better for her to think that he didn’t know of it._

_“‘Diseases of his inner organs because he had neglected his health,’ they said. How about you go visit him?” she said as she turned and walked off, her dainty heels clicking as she went up the stairs._

_Fushimi dropped down in front of the door, leaning back against it._ Hospitalized, huh. I wonder if it’s a disease that can be cured. It’d be good if it’s not, _he thought._

~~~ 

“Fushimi! Dude, snap out of it.” He was being shaken. Hands grabbed at his until the object that he was gripping tightly was taken away. “Fushimi!” 

Totsuka’s pleading snapped him out of it. His surroundings came rushing in. Kusanagi was holding a knife that he had apparently ripped out of the artist’s hand. Sweat ran down Fushimi’s back from the sudden flashback. The rest of the bar seemed not to notice, except for little Anna who was peering around her camera at him and Mikoto who was watching with a unusually worried look on his face. 

“Fushimi? Y-you okay?” Totsuka was holding onto his shoulders, his bright sightless eyes looking at his like he was studying him. “Come on.” He tugged at him; Fushimi numbly got to his feet and followed him into the kitchen (granted, Totsuka roughly walked into the doorway on his first try, but they soon got there anyways). 

Totsuka put the artist into a chair and Kusanagi set the throwing knife down on the table while filling a glass of water. Fushimi cleared his throat. “T-Totsuka?” He felt his hands start to shake. Was that woman related to Kisa? How could she? 

“Yeah. I’m here.” The gang member grappled for his own chair before finding it and sitting down.

A glass was pushed into his trembling hands by the bartender. “W-who was she?” 

Kusanagi answered the question for him. “Yagiri Erika, Chitose’s girlfriend.” 

Yagiri wasn’t a name that Fushimi knew. The tension in his chest relieved a little but then it clenched again. Kisa could’ve had an affair, which was always possible because of how much she hated Niki and how she was gone all the time. 

“Breathe, you need to breathe.” Totsuka’s voice drifted into his panicking mind. “Do we need to get Yata?” 

Fushimi shook his head, clamming up. The glass was loose in his hands. He knew full well that he was having a panic attack; it was quite common for him but they had lessened for a few years. Usually they would come after nightmares. One had happened during a night he’d spent at Misaki’s—they’d been cuddled up in bed sleeping when he’d had a violent nightmare. Luckily, he had kept himself quiet and gone into the bathroom to wait it out. He didn’t feel like this would be a good time to tell Misaki, since he was struggling with his own problems. 

“Hey, Fushimi, talk to us. We don’t know what’s wrong unless you tell us,” the gang member said gently. No doubt he had also gone through this with Misaki many times. 

“I-I…” He seized up. His chest hurt, like someone was punching it and knocking the air out of him. 

Hands went to his chest and started rubbing. Totsuka had leaned forward into him and was rubbing his chest, trying to relieve the tightness. “I know you don’t want to talk about it but it will help me understand, okay? Do you want me to get Yata?” 

He shook his head again. Totsuka’s rubbing helped. “Then tell me. Izumo can go if you want.” The bartender was standing off to the side, watching them. He left when Fushimi nodded. 

Fushimi took a shaky breath and said, “S-she reminded me of my mother. T-that’s what she looked like the last time I saw her.” 

“And why does that hurt?” 

“I don’t want to go back there again,” he confessed, his hands sudden clenched around the glass at the thought of going back to the demon’s mansion. 

Totsuka sat back in his chair. “You don’t have to. If anyone tries to make you, we’ll stop them. Hell, everyone at this bar will. You’re part of us now.” He smiled softly. “It’s just an unlikely coincidence that Mrs. Yagiri looks similar to her. Just don’t think about it okay? Do you want to talk about something else?” 

Fushimi shrugged. He glanced up at Totsuka who he was looking at him questioningly, clearly not able to see the shrug. Fushimi had forgotten about his condition for a moment. “Uh. Yeah.” He finally took a sip of the water. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna make this a three part Christmas special btw. Sorry if you wanted Mikoto/Totsuka pov but there is going to be more of the couple in the next chapter.  
> Ahhhhh. I don’t know why I’m planning what I’m gonna do in next chapter. Drunk!Misaki is starting off the next chapter btw. Oh no.  
>  **Thank you for those who have been reading!!!! I love you all.**


	4. “…Sweet Dreams, Saru…” Christmas Special ~ Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part of the Christmas Special. Totsuka, Mikoto, Saru, and Misaki go out on a mini double date but is interrupted by Misaki’s family. Misaki’s little bro looks up to his brother for some important advice. (A bit of Sarumi fluff at the beginning)

Fushimi glowered down at his inadvertently drunk boyfriend. The artist would’ve watched how much Misaki was drinking if he hadn’t been in the kitchen, talking with Totsuka the whole night. 

“Come on Misaki. It’s midnight.” Fushimi held the bag with their gifts and jackets in one hand and Misaki’s arm in the other. 

“Noooo,” he whined, tugging back. “But I want to stay. It’s fun here.” 

“ _Tch_ , we have to go home before you set your shirt on fire again.” Which had indeed happened—Misaki and the guys had gotten a brilliant idea to see whose aura was the brightest until Misaki had started to smoke and his shirt had lit on fire. Only when Kusanagi started chucking buckets of water on him did Fushimi came out of the kitchen and realized how much he had been drinking. So now Misaki was wearing Fushimi’s light jacket that he usually wore over his knife harness, trying to pull away and get back into the midst of the party. 

“Awwww.” He finally ended up nodded and following Fushimi’s pleadings. “Can I at least say good night first?” 

Fushimi let him and watched as the man half-bounced, half-stumbled while running around and hugging people good night. He caught Mikoto twice and even accidentally hugged Fushimi, but he brushed it off by saying that he wanted “to hug the monkey”. The artist didn’t feel like arguing over the nickname and instead dragged him outside. 

Misaki obediently got into the car and struggled with the seatbelt until Fushimi helped him. During the car ride back to the skater’s apartment, Misaki stared out the window, commenting on how it was so pretty at night in the city with all of the lights and such and how they should go out at night together more often. 

Fushimi quickly caught on that Misaki was the giddy, talkative type of drunk, while he himself was the emotional, secret-spilling type—which annoyed him greatly, but there was nothing he could do about it. Misaki went to jump out of the car and was stopped by the seatbelt before remembering to unbelt it. Fushimi watched him from a distance, slightly amused.

He opened the front door and let the skater inside before shutting it again and taking off his boots and knife harness. He hung the harness on the coat rack for the night since it was so late. Misaki had stripped off Fushimi’s jacket (without caring that he didn’t have his shirt or tank top on underneath due to the fire) and his sneakers, lazily kicking them next to Fushimi’s like usual. The artist grumbled slightly before bending over and straightening them. 

The artist watched as his boyfriend walked out into the living room and suddenly started giggling, pointing at the couch. “Saru! Sit! I wanna try something.” 

“No, Misaki. It’s late.” Fushimi walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Drink this.” 

“Then will you?” The skater took the glass and gripped it tight in his hands to keep from dropping it. 

The artist shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.” He retrieved the bag of gifts, then hung the coats and tossed the scarfs and gloves into the bin by the door before pulling the gifts out and placing them on the table– except the Misaki’s new skateboard where he leaned against the wall next to the original one. 

“Done!” Misaki half-dropped, half-placed the glass on the counter, making a loud clinking sound. The skater ran forward and grabbed the artist’s arm, practically dragging him to the couch. 

Fushimi rolled his eyes at him and plopped down onto the couch. “Misaki. It’s too late to be playing games. We have all of tomorrow—” 

What Fushimi had expected was for Misaki to throw video game controllers at him and demand a rematch of a game they had started last week and had later gotten into a mini argument about concerning who had won, but what he didn’t expect was for Misaki to drop down into his lap and kiss him forcefully. The skater misjudged where Fushimi’s mouth was and ended up kissing the side of it, his nose bumping into the man’s glasses, but what Misaki was trying to do was clear. 

The artist managed to pull back from the eager man. “What the hell Misaki? It time to go to bed and you taste bad, so no kissing.” It was obvious that he hated the smell and taste of beer, it was too rough-tasting for him. He preferred a special kind of drink with mixes of different alcohol and flavor—not that he drank much anyways. 

A fire of determination had lit up in Misaki’s beautiful amber eyes, his hands holding the collar of Fushimi’s black long sleeve. “Come on, Saruhiko. I’ve been waiting for so long for this.” 

What first threw the artist off was the use to his full name—Misaki nearly always shortened his name down to Saru. Second, Fushimi wouldn’t really consider jumping around the idea for the past couple weeks as “long time”. 

Fushimi clicked his tongue and averted his eyes from the pleading face in front of him. “Why do you even want to do this. Do you think we even need to?” He himself had never thought about sex ever in his life—he’d never needed to and he wasn’t ever like some people who would just jump on the opportunity whenever it arose. He’d only started to think about it after he and Misaki had first made out and when Chitose had asked him about it, but for glaringly obvious reasons he didn’t want to do it anytime soon.

Misaki pouted and let go of Fushimi’s shirt but didn’t get off his lap. “Why do you think that? You’re so fucking hot and beautiful, who wouldn’t want to.” He tilted his head cutely, his bangs covered his eyes slightly as he watched Fushimi. 

Misaki didn’t seem to care that he was half-naked and straddling Fushimi’s lap, he just kept on doing his cute little pout, trying to egg the artist on with puppy eyes. He couldn’t help but let his eyes be drawn down to the bare skin in front of him. He had seen Misaki half-naked quite a lot of times, but never presented to him in this kind of manner. Usually it was the quick moment when Misaki pulled off his tank top from the night’s sleep to pull on the next day’s shirt, or that time Misaki had decided to sit on the couch in only his pants playing a video game (Fushimi had come home that day to see shirtless Misaki and almost had to leave because the skater had looked up, seen him at the door, and flipped out while hurriedly explaining that he liked to be comfortable like that when no one was home). Fushimi couldn’t say the sight was bad, it was definitely… pleasant…to see. 

“Tsk. Think whatever you want, Misaki, but I’m definitely not beautiful,” he nearly hissed out, agitated that anyone who looked remotely like Niki would be considered beautiful. “And I’m not doing it with you tonight. Okay?” _Especially not when you’re drunk, he thought, gently trying to nudge him off his lap_. 

The skater stayed securely on his lap. “Humph. You can be a real jerk sometimes, always frowning and saying no to compliments. It annoys me. Just take it for what it is. You’re beautiful to me and fuck whoever says you aren’t.” He crossed his arms defiantly, but the grumpy demeanor he was trying to put on was quickly shattered by a big yawn. “And you better believe it or I’ll kick your ass—” another yawn cut him off. 

Fushimi rolled his eyes but nodded. “Fine, whatever you want Misaki. Let’s go to bed, you’re obviously tired.” 

“But I’m not!” 

“Yes you are.” The artist managed to push the stubborn man off of his lap. “Just be glad that I’m not making you shower or brush, you stink.” 

He lead a yawning Misaki into the bedroom. The both of them changed into normal night clothes before crawling into bed, Misaki falling asleep instantly as he hit the blankets. 

The artist carefully pushed his boyfriend onto his side of the bed before pulling the covers up over him. Fushimi attempted to go to sleep but something kept bothering him until he remembered that he’d forgotten something. He rolled over so he was facing Misaki before leaning close and placing a soft kiss in his hair. “You forgot your promised goodnight kiss,” he mumbled, going to roll back over when Misaki’s half-asleep voice stopped him. 

“…Sweet Dreams, Saru…” 

* * *

He rolled over, his half-asleep mind searching for the warmth that his boyfriend provided, but when he rolled over, he didn’t find the typical warmth and comfortable cuddles of the morning. Instead, the artist only found sheets and a cool spot where the skater usually laid. “Misaki?” he asked, finally opening his eyes to see that the pillow and sheets were about to fall off of the bed. 

Fushimi grumbled as he slid out of bed and pulled on his glasses along with a random pair of pants and his armbands to cover the monkey tattoo. He ran his fingers through his dark hair in attempt to get rid of the bed head before walking out into the living room/kitchen to find his boyfriend. He was right where Fushimi had expected him to be, if not in bed—in the kitchen with an apron making breakfast for the both of them, except this morning he was wearing the brand-new apron that Kusanagi had gotten him for Christmas. Even Fushimi couldn’t say that the pattern on it was wasn’t pretty; a tree was placed over a black background, and the leaves were sort of an bright orange color. 

The artist watched from afar until an impulse hit him, and he almost acted upon it. It was something he has seen several times in movies—the boyfriend would go up behind the girlfriend (or vice versa) and hug them while they were cooking. Fushimi would’ve normally scoffed at the impulse and said it was too cliché, but as he looked at Misaki standing there, making them breakfast, he couldn’t help but think that it would be cute. 

But the impulse vanished as Misaki turned around and noticed him. “Morning Saru! And Merry Christmas!” There was a great smile on his face, making his eyes glitter. 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” the man mumbled under his breath, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “What are you doing up early?” 

“Early? It’s nine twenty right now. I let you sleep in, after all your complaining about going to bed last night.” A light blush had sprinkled across his cheeks and he turned back to his cooking quickly. “So… how did you sleep?” 

“Good, I guess.” Fushimi watched Misaki for a few more moments before grabbing their plates, chopsticks, and mismatched coffee cups and placing them on the counter for him; it was the least he could do since Misaki wanted to do all of the cooking. The artist filled both mugs with water and stuck them into the microwave before fetching hot cocoa packets from the cabinet. 

He didn’t realize that Misaki was watching him prepare the cocoa until he spoke. “I didn’t know you liked hot cocoa.” 

Fushimi paused from a moment while he pulled the mugs out of the microwave. “It's… not bad,” he muttered, placing the mugs onto the counter and ripping the tops off of the packets to pour into the mugs of steaming water. After mixing the powder into the water, he walked over to the couch to place to mugs onto the coffee table. He took the blue striped one for himself and gave Misaki the orange polka-dotted one. 

The skater smiled and placed the plates down next to the mugs. He hung up his new apron and sat down on the couch next to him. 

The two of them ate in mostly silence, save for the bits of conversation about what they should do later, with Christmas movies playing in the background. They decided that they would stay home for the day, since it would probably be busy out on the streets and they’d been at the bar almost all week. 

After they ate, Misaki got up to put their dishes in the sink and came back dragging a blanket and markers from their room. Fushimi eyed the marker container as Misaki pushed it into his hands before sitting down and spreading the black blanket across their laps. “Saru. I want to do something,” Misaki said, grabbing his arm and pulling off the armband that was covering his monkey tattoo. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, stopping himself from pulling back in order to see what Misaki had in mind.

“I’m going to color in your monkey. That’s okay right?” His amber eyes sparkled as if begging, so Fushimi gave up and nodded. 

Misaki smiled and pulled his arm into his lap, taking off the tube lid and taking out a brown marker. Fushimi flinched a little at the unexpected coolness of the marker before relaxing and watching him go to work. 

As he watched him, he realized something that surprised him, he didn’t mind Misaki seeing the small tattoo. Fushimi had expected himself to pull away and tell him no, standing firm against Misaki’s pleadings, because the monkey outline was a mark from his father, a symbol to remind him of what a disgrace he was—as if he was Niki’s property—but with Misaki drawing all over it, it seemed like he was changing the mark from Niki’s to his, covering up the demon’s mark. 

This thought struck a chord within the artist. Maybe he could replace all of the old shitty memories with new nice ones of Misaki. Fushimi had already changed so much, covering the past memories with his dragon tattoo and glasses and even joining a gang. If he met a younger version of himself (even just one year ago), he would see a completely different person than what he was now. And he didn’t mind the change, he was actually really happy about it—in fact, a smile had crossed his face at the mere thought of it. 

“What are you so happy about?” Misaki asked, looking up at him. 

Fushimi just shook his head, continuing to smile, and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Hm… nothing.” 

“Uh… okay?” Misaki shrugged and held the artist’s arm out. “I’ve finished! You like it?” 

The black dull outline was now full of color. The monkey had a mini smile and was colored brown like a real monkey would be—well, except for the fact that there was a Santa hat on its head, but Fushimi didn’t care. A warmth had crept up in his chest at the sight of it. “Yeah. Thanks, Misaki.” 

The man laughed softly and leaned against him, threading his fingers through Fushimi’s. They stayed like that for a while, watching the movie. Fushimi was lazily playing with Misaki’s fingers when his boyfriend’s watch suddenly buzzed. 

A chibi Mikoto was crossing his arms and tapping his mini foot while the words “incoming” read above him was on the small screen. The artist heard a faint sigh come from the man relaxed against his side and he felt the same, their peaceful silence was broken. 

Misaki let go of his hand and tapped the display. A hologram of Mikoto popped up. He had on his normal stoic expression while his fiancé next to him was smiling. “Hi, Mikoto and Totsuka. What’s up?” 

Mikoto opened his mouth to say something but Totsuka interrupted him. “Hi! Fushimi’s there right?” he asked. Fushimi confirmed his existence with a low “hello”. “Okay! I want to go on a Christmas double date with you guys.” Mikoto simply rolled his eyes and muttered that Totsuka forced him to invite the couple. 

“Uh…” Misaki glanced up at Fushimi for permission. He shrugged in response, so Misaki said, “Yeah, we’ll go. Where do you want to meet?” 

* * *

Yata stuffed his mittened hand into his pocket while his other was clasped in Saruhiko’s. Neither of them were enthusiastic about public affection but since it was Christmas and they’d seen many couples holding hands, they figured that it would be okay for now. The skater looked down at their hands for a moment, noting that they were wearing different kinds of gloves. Before the pair left home, Yata had asked Saruhiko if the mittens were girly or childish, but the artist had just shrugged and said that it didn’t matter if they were lame or not, as long as they kept his hands warm. After that, Yata had grabbed the mittens and wore them without regret. Saruhiko himself had gotten gloves from Akagi as well, although his were nice black ones that elegantly showed off his long deft fingers. Yata noticed he was staring and blushed, swinging their joined hands slightly. 

Neither of them talked, but soft chatter from Mikoto and Totsuka sounded behind them, mostly pointless rambling from the younger to keep his nerves at bay. He hadn’t admitted that he was nervous to be outside, but it was quite obvious. Yata would also be nervous about being out on Christmas, with more people out than usual and noise from all of the shops they passed, but Totsuka had the three of them to help him if he wanted it or not; they all loved him (okay, maybe Saru would never admit it, but it was close enough).

The pairs soon reached the restaurant, and Yata held the door open for them politely before walking in himself. They were at the same restaurant that him and Saru had gone to on their first date, though they hadn’t known it at the time. The memory made him smile softly and bounce over to the table that the others had found by the window. The restaurant was mostly quiet, but there were a few more people than usual so they chose the table farthest from the others so that they could have privacy. 

The four of them stripped off their coats, scarves, and gloves, sighing happily to be back in the heat. Saruhiko and Totsuka sat closest to the window while Yata and Mikoto sat next to them. 

They quickly skimmed the menus—Mikoto read out a few of the selections for Totsuka—before ordering. Since the place was busier than normal, the chief’s daughter had come in as a temporary waitress. Luckily, she didn’t have big boobs like most people that came around Yata, so he was saved and managed to order his food with a straight face. 

While waiting for their meals, Mikoto looked up and asked Saruhiko, “Fushimi, you feeling better today?” 

Saru looked confused until he remembered. “Oh, yeah I feel better. It’s nothing to worry about, I was just shaken up, that’s all,” he said, looking down and fiddling with the edge of the napkin that was in front of him. 

Yata didn’t know that Saruhiko had felt bad yesterday…maybe it’d been after present time that he hadn’t felt well. Mikoto nodded then shot a glance at Yata. “Yata didn’t catch himself on fire again on the way home, did he?” 

“N-nope!” the skater interrupted sheepishly, still embarrassed that his aura had gotten out of control. 

A loud jingle and a gust of cold made the skater look up, his eyes wide as he saw who had walked in. “Misaki! You’re here!” A young boy, thirteen years old, ran up to the table where the Homra members sat. A little girl, nine years old, followed him happily with their mother behind them. 

“Minoru! Megumi! Mom! What are you doing here?” Yata asked, shocked. He hadn’t seen them in a long time. 

Mom smiled, her hair pulled up into a delicate tail as always. “We came to surprise you for Christmas. That bartender friend of yours told us that you might be here.” 

Yata felt a small tug on his shirt and he looked up at Saru, who was staring at the smiling kids. The skater chuckled. “Oh, Saru, this is Minoru—” the dark-haired boy waved enthusiastically, “—that’s Megumi—” the red-haired girl smiled from where she was half-hidden behind her mother, “—and that’s my mother. And guys, this my boyfriend, Fushimi Saruhiko.” 

Yata ignored the hiss of warning from Saru as he suddenly blurted out their relation. Mom looked surprised, but not shocked. “Wow, you should’ve told me earlier Misaki, I would’ve invited him for Christmas,” she teasingly scolded him. 

The skater blushed slightly in self-consciousness as he felt the other stares on him. “O-okay! Maybe you guys should sit down. Is it okay if they join us?” Yata asked the others. Mikoto shrugged, Totsuka piped up that it was okay with him, and Saru didn’t answer, so Yata took that as a yes. 

The waiter was helping to pull over a table so the Yata family could sit when Saru tugged on Yata’s shirt again. When the skater looked at him, the artist motioned that they needed to talk privately. 

The pair excused themselves and walked into the back. “What?” 

Saruhiko frowned down at him. “Why did you have to just blurt out that were boyfriends?” 

“Uh… well… she would’ve asked if we were anyways. She’s fine with the fact that I'm… gay, so she has a reason to know. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Yata apologized, and he truly meant it. “She was the first to know that I liked guys so yeah…” 

Saru clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I just don’t the whole world to know that we’re together.” 

The skater nodded and stood on his toes to press a soft kiss to lips before grabbing his hand. “I’ll control myself. Just be prepared for a lot questions. My half-siblings are hyper too.” 

“I bet, knowing you,” Saru mumbled under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a half smile. 

He pulled his boyfriend back over to the table and sat down, seeing that their food had already come out. Mikoto had started to dig into his while Totsuka avidly talked to the kids. Mom looked up when they came over. “So… Misaki and Fushimi, how did you guys meet?” 

Yata went to answer but Saru cut him off with a grin. “Saruhiko is fine, missus. Misaki here ran into my tattoo shop demanding a tattoo late at night, then he wouldn’t leave me alone. That was… just over two months ago.” He playfully elbowed him in the ribs, making Yata yelp. 

“Oh! You’re a tattoo artist. That’s cool. So, what did Misaki want?” 

Yata rolled his eyes and pulled down his collar at the same time as Saru, showing off the matching tattoos. “It’s the Homra ignisa.” 

Mom nodded, then pointed with her face to where the dragon tattoo sat on Saru. “What about that?” 

Saruhiko fidgeted in his seat for a moment like a kid just caught doing something wrong before he answered, “I thought it was cool, just got it last month from a friend. I designed it myself.” 

The group talked for a while they ate. At times, Yata noticed that Minoru kept on glancing at the two couples then looking down at his plate and blushing. He decided that he would ask him about it later, since it was unusual for the boy to be so quiet, especially at his age. Yata also saw that Saru kept fidgeting under Mom’s gaze. It wasn’t like she was being mean or glaring at him, she was just being kind as always, so it confused Yata greatly as to why Saru kept ducking away. The skater wanted to figure out his brother’s problem first since he might leave soon. 

The Homra members and the Yata family finished their lunch. “Uh…” Yata faced his family pulling on their winter jackets. “Do you guys want to go to my place, or Homra Bar, or something?” he asked, unsure of what they should do. 

“Where do you think is best?” Mom asked as she gently put a hat on her daughter’s head. 

“Homra Bar I think…” He remembered that Saruhiko basically lived with him now so the apartment wasn’t in the best shape. It wasn’t like they were messy or anything—the apartment had gotten much cleaner since Saru moved in—but it was now also Saruhiko’s private place so he might feel uncomfortable with two kids and a mother walking all around it.

Mom nodded. “I guess that you boys walked here but I have my car with me so I can bring a few of you if you don’t want to walk,” she said to all of them. 

“How many can fit?” 

“Um…” she thought for a moment before answering, “Five seats… minus one because of me… so I have four open.” 

“Misaki and I can walk,” Minoru unexpectedly blurted out, surprising them all. Yata nodded, showing that he was okay with that. 

“Ok, then. Saruhiko, Megumi, Totsuka, Mikoto, and I will take the car. Text any of us if you get caught up in something.” Mom gently placed a kiss on her sons’ foreheads, who both spluttered and said that they were too old for that kind of treatment, but she just laughed and lead the others outside. Saruhiko hung back for a moment to squeeze Yata’s hand and mutter out a “see you later”. The skater would’ve kissed his cheek or something but he was still too embarrassed to do that in public. 

“Ready to go?” Yata asked cautiously, looking down at his little brother. 

“Yeah.” 

* * *

“Wait. What?! That’s what you wanted to talk to me about?!” Yata abruptly stopped walking and stared at his little brother. 

“W-what? I can’t ask an innocent question?” The boy stopped too and looked back at him, his unwavering amber eyes met his brother’s shocked ones.

Yata chuckled embarrassedly and walk up to him. “ _Chu_ , asking how I knew that I was gay isn’t much of an innocent question to me.” He looked down at him. “Why do you want to know about that? You’re thirteen.” 

“Well, Mom said that you knew you liked guys when you were fourteen, so why can’t I?” 

The skater sighed and started to walk again. “And why do you want to know that?” 

“How about you answer my question first,” he said defiantly.

Yata flashed him a soft glare then answered, “It was really stupid. This chick wanted me to go out with her, so I did but I didn’t feel comfortable with the idea of dating women, or even doing anything remotely romantic with them. It’s not like I don’t _like_ women, it’s just that I’m uncomfortable with it—” 

“Like how you freak out when you talk to woman?” 

“That’s different!” the skater huffed. “Anyways, Oogai Aya was the chick’s name. I don’t think it helped that she was an ass.” Minoru looked at him, confused, so he explained. “Oogai kept on talking about this lame second cousin of hers and talking about how bad and rude he was.” 

“What was the guy’s name?” 

Yata thought for a moment. “I can’t remember but it had something to do with an animal…” 

Minoru’s eyes sparkled. “Your boyfriend’s name has to do with a monkey—Saru.” 

The skater’s eyes widened at the thought. 

~~ 

_“Hey. Can Yata buy Aya an ice cream?” Oogai stopped walking and pointed at the ice cream stand across the street. Both of them had just gotten out of school and were walking about the city after going home to drop off their school books._

_“Uh, sure.” The boy flashed a uneasy smile at her before crossing the street. Her use of the third person still bothered him but he’d mostly gotten used to it. Yata’s mother had given him money before he left home to get his girlfriend a treat._

_Oogai continued to talk from where she had left off before she spotted the stand. “He is so annoying, like it’s not like he annoys Aya purposely, but just the sight of him bothers Aya. He looks so fragile and weak but his rudeness surpasses that by miles.”_

_“Do you have a picture?” Yata asked cautiously, not actually expecting her to have one. They stopped in line once at the stand._

_“Oh, Aya does.” He raised an eyebrow in surprise and watched as she pulled out her school-issued PDA and pulled up a picture. “He just transferred from our school at the beginning of the year so he isn’t here any more.”_

_Yata took the phone and looked at the picture. It looked like a family reunion; the women were in dresses and the men were in suits. A man was crouching behind two children—the little girl had dark brown hair pinned up with yellow bows and was wearing a pretty pink dress while the boy wore a small suit with a blue tie. His blackish hair was long, reaching just below his ears and partially covering half of his face and glasses. Yata had to admit, the boy looked cute even though he was grumpy. Both of them looked about ten. The man behind the kids was smirking, looking much different from the people around him. He was dressed in casual black clothes with silver bracelets and rings covering his hands, and tattoos could be seen painted onto his arms._

_“So this is you when you were little? The boy doesn’t look annoying here, but people change when they grow up, right?”_

_Oogai took her PDA back. “Yeah, but he was always an inconsiderate person.”_

_“What is his name?” he asked, then panicked slightly—what if she got mad at him for his question?_

_“Oh, it’s Fushimi Saruhiko. He’s like an old monkey, just like his name suggests.” She continued to rant about the Saruhiko kid while they bought their ice creams but Yata didn’t hear a word of it. He was too busy sorting through his memories for a kid with dark hair, sharp blue eyes, and a weird name but it came up as mostly blank. He vaguely remembered the name “Fushimi” and something to do with a dark-haired boy in his class last year, but as for specifics he remembered nothing._

_The pair finished their ice cream quickly and started to walk back home._

~~ 

“Shit. That was Saru!” Yata cried, shock and realization hitting him like a wave crashing onto the shore. He ignored his brother’s pleading to calm down as he started to shake him. “Oh my God, you know what this means right?! We must be like soulmates or something!” 

“Misaki, soulmates don’t exist…but fine, I guess that is kind of cool.” Minoru managed to pull away from his freaking-out brother. “At least tell me how you knew you were gay, then you can flip out all you want.” 

Yata shrugged, finally calming down. “Okay, so, the idea in my head of me with a girl just didn’t seem like it would work, like pieces of a puzzle that just didn’t fit together. But when I started to think about maybe being in a relationship with a guy, I felt comfortable with that thought. But listen to this, little bro, it doesn’t matter how long it takes for you to figure it out or to get a lover. Saru is my first actual boyfriend.” 

Minoru frowned in thought before muttering out, “What if you have someone that you’ve been crushing on for a long time but you don’t if they’re straight or not?” 

Yata laughed silently. “Hm… I guess just confess your feelings to them. If they are a good friend, then they should still be your friend even if they do reject the confession.” 

The boy picked at a string on his jacket for a moment before speaking. “There’s a friend of mine that I like a lot but I just don’t know if he likes me back in the same sense. I’ve never seen him interested in girls before but I haven’t seen him interested in boys either, so I just don’t know. He’s sort of quiet around people but he talks a lot to me so… I just don’t know.”

“What’s his name?” 

“Munakata Masaomi” 

“Wait. Is his father Munakata Reisi?” 

Minoru nodded. “Uh, yes in fact. You know him?” 

The skater shrugged. “A little…” 

“Oh, well. Masaomi’s dad seemed to know you Homra guys well. Masaomi told me that you guys and Scepter 4 had beef a long time ago,” his brother said, looking up at him. The pair of them had walked up to the bar by that time. 

“O-oh, I didn’t know that.” Yata sighed. “Let’s go in.” He held the door open for his brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally made a solid plot line in my head. Basically, watch out for CATHEDRAL (the reason they aren’t too active rn is because Iwafune was hurt by Saruhiko during the attack).
> 
> Just for you all to know, Munakata Masaomi is a completely made up character. Reisi isn’t married nor has a child in the real [K]. I know I’m kinda going off of the real [K]’s background but from now on, I’m gonna to go into a slightly different direction. 
> 
> You guys like that I included the Yata family for this chapter? I don’t see much of them (maybe because you only see them in LSW?) in fics and I really like the Yata family + Minoru, he’s adorable. 
> 
> Another big thanks to Miles-To-Go2 for betaing my fic!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing in Mikoto and Blind!Totsuka PoV. I think I did it well.
> 
> Haha, Misaki is worried that Saru would get cold when out with Chitose and Kamamoto. You could probably guess what Chitose is asking Saru about and Saru says no because they haven’t done it yet and not anytime soon. 
> 
> I’m really upset that I made Totsuka cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry nor be blind. All he wanted to do is to get a gift for Mikoto. Totsuka needs more love. 
> 
> So…. what do you guys think about Christmas? The holiday is coming up and I already have great ideas for it.


End file.
